Terms and Definitions...

Not quite terms and conditions, but sort of?

So it's been just over a year since I got my ADD diagnosis. As most of you know I didn't do anything with it. I decided against medication for a few reasons. One, at the time, it was hard to come by. There was a shortage and I didn't feel like contributing to the problem for those who really needed it. And that's another big reason. I didn't feel like I really needed it.

I'm not working for anyone right now. During the day I keep the house and play with the cats. I write for amusement and to clear the log jam of thoughts constantly bumping around in my head. I don't have to focus on much. I don't have to stop hyperfocusing on things that grab my attention. If I needed to do any of those things I probably would have made a different decision.

But, and here's the weird thing to me, even though getting a label shouldn't have mattered at all, it really has. I'm still just as random and scattered and multi focused as I always have been. I still have all of my weird little things that I do. My stars, my texture preferences, my patterns, my lists, my dislike of crowds, all of those things are still there but now I can acknowledge them without shame.

Because even though I'm pretty content being who I am and the way I am there were still times where that thought of "just suck it up" would come in. Where I would be frustrated that something small really bothered me. Now I can just say, "Oh that's just the way my brain is wired. Doctor's excuse and everything."

For instance, the author Chuck Tingle is in town today on his book tour. I am a huge fan of his horror writing and his personal posting on social media. He is a relentlessly positive force in the world without crossing over into that toxic positivity space. He's neurodivergent and owns it as just who he is, and is encouraging to others to do the same. Not just about neurodivergence but about anything that isn't hurting anyone else. He's just a really bright light. BUT...Powell's didn't do it as a ticketed event. It's a get in line early to get a good seat and wait there with a few hundred other people who are there to see him.

No way.

Crowds are not my thing. Going to an event without knowing I have a seat, and where that seat is, are not my things. Yes, my neurodivergence is preventing me from seeing a neurodivergent author and it is sort of funny.

I am bummed to miss it but I know that the event itself would be a LOT and I'm already maxed out now due to...(waves hands in an all encompassing movement) the horrors. And a few years ago I would be berating myself over not going. Lot's of "suck it up sunshine" self talk. This time I thought about going. Thought about what it would entail. Realized that there was no way I would want to make Brent do it too, my security blanket as well as my husband, he's a good multitasker. Thought about it again. Then realized that I wouldn't enjoy the process so much that it would be hard to enjoy the event at all.

And that's fine.

That's what the diagnosis gave me. A little spot of self understanding. Permission to note what is going on and move past it a lot faster.

Sometimes the label doesn't put you in a box so much as it gives you a path out of one.